I once knew a Latina named Melanie Banderas. Antonio Banderas was her favorite actor/sex symbol, so she had changed her last name in an attempt to pretend that Antonio was her papi chulo. She inhabited Miami and worked at a tanning salon. Ironically, she was also an albino.
Melanie was insecure about her albinism. Her skin was very transparent, like a window to her veins; her eyes were of a deep red wine coloration (but they weren’t like beer goggles). Her hair was thin, bleach blonde (without actually being bleached), and graying; you couldn’t tell the gray hairs from the blonde hairs because their shades were so similar.
Growing up in a dark-skinned Hispanic community, she was always made fun of. All of the Spanish speaking children would tell her “Cago en tu leche,” meaning “I shit in your milk.” “Milk,” of course, referred to her pasty skin. Her teacher felt bad for her and tried to explain to her classmates that she had a lack of pigment, but the kids just called her “piggy,” for short.
Melanie exhaustingly tried to darken her skin tone. She had even changed her first name to Melanie, which means “dark, black” (I believe her original name was Michaella Jackson). When she laid out in the sun, she burned scarlet (and although she was a scarlet girl, she was no whore). You could even hear the sizzle of her skin from a couple of feet away. When she tried bronzing lotion, she became streaky and unintentionally went streaking on the beach (several volleyball players placed her bikini on their white volleyball). Lastly, when she tried a tanning bed (her job provides a 50% discount, by the way), she got crabs (as a practical joke by her co-workers) because the bed wasn’t cleaned after Britney Spears used it.
Melanie came to work on the day of Antonio Banderas’ appointment. Usually she had the custodial job, but surprisingly, her co-workers offered her the job as receptionist for the day. She felt like a prom queen and was enthralled to have an opportunity to converse with Antonio. Unfortunately, she was blissfully unaware of the bucket full of tanning lotion that lingered above her.
Antonio strutted in with the confidence of a wild lynx. His smart slacks formed a sexual, leather aura around his taut bottom. Noticing this and hyperventilating a bit, Melanie greeted him with a shaky voice. All of her co-workers were gathered around them with suspicious smirks on their faces. Antonio inquired about the wait for his tanning bed. Before Melanie could answer, the bucket full of bronzing lotion flipped 180 degrees, resulting in a recollection of her streaky experience at the beach. Covered in bronzer and eventually the feathers of an albino bird, Melanie was ridiculed by the overwhelming sound of laughter.
Throughout this whole time, she hadn’t looked up. When she did, however, she witnessed the cackling face of her beloved Antonio. This hit her in the softest spot of her immunodeficient body: her heart. As a teardrop trickled down her fair face, she felt a spark. Curious about this electric sensation, she looked around for a mirror to find out what it was. During her search, she glimpsed at the snickering crowd. Lasers astonishingly shot from her glowing red eyes, resulting in two deaths (the lasers cut two people in half), while everybody else suffered casualties. Melanie felt powerful for silencing the dreadful amusement of the wounded horde. Then, she used her laser eyes to set the tanning salon on fire. While she watched the flames go up in a crimson blaze, she realized that she was riding the crimson wave (she was on her period). In a way, Melanie was trying to burn up her figurative scarlet letter “A” (which would stand for “Albino”).
Luckily for the salon manager, he was on vacation in Hawaii during the ruckus at the salon. Afraid for his life, he offered Carrie – I mean Melanie – a promotion (even though the salon was burnt to a crisp). Melanie declined the offer and realized that life in Miami was not for her. I think she lives in Alaska now (where the sun can’t burn her), but she might also be dead.
